Homebody

I really like to travel. I’ve been doing it longer than I can remember; apparently I’ve been to Canada before, but I was too small to actually have any recollection of it. (Gives me an excuse to go again.) Studying abroad in France for a semester in college gave me the opportunity to travel to a handful of countries by train. I really like visiting Europe; the food of course is good (praline hazelnut ice cream is The Best), and there’s a sense of age and history running through everything. Also, there are castles. I love me a good castle.

Funnily enough, I haven’t really traveled that much in the US. As a family we’ve traveled up and down the Eastern Seaboard, and out to the Midwest for family. But my last trip, out to Utah in the beginning of June, is the farthest west I’ve been in America that I can remember. Altogether I’ve been in 17 states and was born in an 18th. (I was born there, but we left when I was two or three, so I don’t really count that one.) Seventeen sounds like a lot all by itself until you remember there’s fifty of them. I’ve just gotten started.

When I tell people I got a degree in French, sometimes they ask if I’m going to live there. Having stayed for five months, I guess I know my answer. Europe, and France in particular, is a nice place to visit. There’s a little restaurant in the northern part of Paris that does a mean salmon tagliatella, and it’s not too far from a cozy second-hand bookshop. The people there can be kind and patient, the architecture is lovely, and nostalgia puts a pretty shine on everything (even the time I got hopelessly lost in Toulon). Really, it’s amazing, and I’m so glad I went. If you read carefully, you can see the marketplace in Arras is very close to the marketplace in Tomelin City. Yes, I do miss Europe, and France in particular.

But it’s not home.

And home is vast.

I know there’s a lot of people, both abroad and at home, who talk about how horrible America is. Okay, bully for you, you’re allowed to speak your mind. That’s one of the inalienable rights those dead white men kept wittering on about. Yeah, America isn’t perfect (don’t get me started), but what country is? And if you want to fight about it, hey, we’re back-to-back world champs.

I love to travel. But my home is big enough for the world. We’ve got all the geography you could want; we’ve got history and breathtaking architecture of our own; and a thousand different cultures elbow to elbow. It’s amazing, and we made it ourselves. And yes, I’m proud to be an American.

I don’t need to leave home to travel.

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